Say Something
by Akatsuki Lover1234567890
Summary: The reaping begins today, and I'm completely speechless about it. (Suggested pairings will be considered)
1. Chapter 1

(1) Speak

I only have two sets of clothes. One for daily wear and another for Reaping Day, the most unnerving day we have to go through each year.  
A boy and girl from each district gets picked to fight to the death. One can wonder why it's an unnerving day we go through each year.

I open the dresser and stare at the wrinkled folded up dress. I grab it and hold up in front of the sun. The dull sun of the early morning makes the dress look darker than it is, giving the impression that the gray fabric resembles the dark cold color of coal.

I take off my clothes and carefully put on the dress, being sure not to stretch it out too much.

Grabbing a ribbon I spot in the dresser, I wrap it tightly around my waist. I almost feel like I can't bend over to lace up my shoes, but I do anyway and sneak a glance at myself in the mirror.

My hair has always been kept long because of the one time my mom decided to give me a haircut. My bangs are a result of me begging my mom to chop off all my hair.

She scolded me that day and decided to give me these annoying pieces of hair in the front that would always go in my eyes. "See if you still want short hair now." She told me. I had learned later that she had given me 'bangs', and that they would have to be trimmed often. That was a problem because I only got a haircut once a year.

Lucky me.

I tried to move my bangs to the side but to no avail. They were stuck where they were, covering my gigantic forehead and bushy eyebrows.

I stood up and checked myself out, noticing all the wrinkles and creases in my dress, the uneven - and annoying - length of my socks, along with the smudges on my wornout shoes.

The door opens and I look sideways, seeing my older brother standing and already dressed in his reaping day clothes.

His jaw tightens and his back straightens, making him seem taller as he glares at me with a slightly uncomfortable gaze.

I look down and stare at the floor, suddenly finding it more interesting then what my brother may have to say.

I hear a pair of footsteps approaching and they stop behind me.

"You didn't tie this right." He says stiffly, undoing the ribbon around my waist and retying it more tightly than before. Now I don't think I really can move.

"It's too tight." I mouth. I look into the mirror and make contact with his eyes. He quickly looks away and tries to leave the room, but I grab his forearm and force him to stay.

"Let go." He says roughly, freeing his arm out of my grasp.

I use both hands this time and yank his arm back. Just stay still for a second, while you!?

He stops resisting and faces me. "What?" He asks. "What?" He repeats impatiently.

After a moment of still silence between us, I let go and shift my gaze elsewhere.

"Why don't you ever have anything useful to say." He mumbles under his breath, exiting the room with long strides.

I bring my hands to my side and stare at the door. Why don't I ever say anything useful or worthwhile? I have nothing remotely meaningful to say or show to anyone.

But then again, why should I?

I can't speak.


	2. Chapter 2

(2) Morning

Entering the kitchen, I find the table occuped by my mom and brother. My mom looks up and smiles gently at me, standing up from her chair and clasping her hands together.

"Good morning, Sonnet." My mother calls softly, going to the kitchen and putting a sandwich on a plate.

"I made some sandwiches this morning." She shoves the plate into my hands and sits back down.

I bring the plate up to my face and and squint my eyes slightly. The bread is fresh, too fresh for us to be able to afford.

I take a seat at the table and eye my brother. I place the sandwich aside and lean back in my chair. I gesture towards my plate and raise an eyebrow at my brother. He scowls at me and scoffs, noticing my questioning face.

"What?" He asks roughly. "Think we can't afford shit around here!?" He exclaims angrily, slamming his hands on the table, causing me and mom to flinch.

"Tex," Mom whispers "please watch your language."

Tex slowly sits down and watches mom with angry eyes. He gives her one last glare before looking back at me. "What was it about the bread that you wanted to know?" He asks in a more even tone.

I put my hand up and wave my index finger side-to-side.

"Where?" He asks. I nod and my hand goes back down to my side. He takes a deep breath and sighs, leaning back in his chair.

"One of the Mellark kids gave it to me." He says.

With my eyebrows furrowed, I bring my index finger close to my lip and make an upwards curving motion.

Mom looks at the two of us, probably curious as to why I would ask whether or not he was being truthful.

"Tex?" She asks, a nervous tone hidden underneath her quiet voice. Tex glances at her before looking at me with steely ones. "I bought it myself from the bakery, like I told you." He says. "Why? Think we're too damn poor to be able to afford anything in this slump!?" He cries out suddenly.

Mom suddenly rises from her seat and leaves to go outside, opening the front door before it slammed shut on its own. I take in a breath between my teeth and grab tightly onto the edge of the table.

I take a deep breath and quickly stand up. My chair topples back and I hear a leg break off.

Tex stands up too and knocks his chair back, clearly angry with what he thinks is my accusation.

"Think we can't do anything, do you!?" He yells, leaning over the table. "Think we need to be careful with every little damn thing we do!? What we can buy and not buy!" He exclaims.

"Well, you can shut that thought up and forget all about it." He says. "You're not the man of the house, I am!" He jabs a thumb to himself and gives me an angry look, turning around to walk over to the front door.

He grasps the handle and opens it, but pauses and says "Eat your goddamned sandwich." He snaps. "Wouldn't wanna waste food now would we?" He adds, walking out with an angry look on his face.  
The door slams loudly behind him and I close my eyes, unsure as to what to do now.

I remember the sandwich still left untouched on the table, so I open my eyes and grab it, taking a big bite out of it.

I taste fresh bread covering the stale meat and lettuce underneath, and for a moment it fools me into thinking that it was a good idea for Tex to buy something this expensive. But I know better and realize that bad bread - burnt or moldy, take your pick - would've saved us more money than this heavenly baked good that I'm starting to dislike with every piece I continue to consume.

I finish off the sandwich with an angry bite, tossing the plate into our little area we call "the sink."

I brush my hands off on my dress, trying to get rid of the remnants of a money-stealing sandwich.

I head to the door, gripping the handle tightly and giving it a push. It opens, but the handle comes off, leaving me with a broken door and a useless door handle, which is great because now I don't need to twist anything to leave the house anymore.

I put the door handle into my dress' pocket and head on out, not seeing my mom or brother anywhere in sight. They must've went on their way to the reaping, much like everyone else is around this time.  
With a deep breath, I begin to walk towards the square, watching others besides me emit dread and anticipation, something we all feel on this day.


End file.
